


Kinktober #29: Handjob

by blessedharlot



Series: Kinktober 2019 [11]
Category: The Great Library Series - Rachel Caine
Genre: Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Sin Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-05 11:16:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21207635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blessedharlot/pseuds/blessedharlot
Summary: Thomas needs some tender loving care, and Vittorio provides it.





	Kinktober #29: Handjob

After lounging at Thomas’ feet for most of the day, Brunhilde’s head lifted, and she soon stood and pointed her nose at the front door of the workshop. She was alerting Thomas that someone was entering. He lost track of his surroundings sometimes, falling deeply into his work. It was an efficient way to work, but it was not a good thing to have someone sneak up on him. He could inadvertently hurt them.

Thomas looked up from his workbench, and saw someone in the doorway. His concentration shifted away from his work more slowly than his eyes had, and it took him a moment to register who he was seeing. It was someone he usually saw in a High Garda uniform, only they weren’t wearing one right now. They were High Garda, yes. But Thomas didn’t usually see them with Glain, so not from her squad. They were usually with… Khalila! He was Khalila’s guard, Captain Santi. The _ other _Captain Santi. He hadn’t visited the workshop before.

Brunhilde came to her own conclusion before Thomas had. She was already eagerly receiving head pats from the Captain, and nearly rubbing herself against his leg.

“Good day, Captain,” Thomas said with a smile. He pointed with the calibration tool he had in his hand. “Brunhilde likes you.”

“She’s a beautiful creature,” he said softly, stroking her head. Some people wouldn’t instinctually stroke a metal dog, but Santi already had a soft, loving hand on her head. “I don’t think I’ve met an automaton dog before. Shorthaired Pointer?”

“Yes,” Thomas said. 

“You even have your ticking, pretty girl,” Santi said to the dog, crouching down to rub her speckled flank. Thomas had used a technique he adapted from elements of Damascus steel production to create the coat pattern of a Pointer for Brunhilde. He was pleased with the result. Brunhilde was pleased with her belly rubs, wagging her short tail in response.

“My previous automaton friends were lions,” Thomas said. “But I thought a canine friend might fit in better around here.”

“Ah, yes. I suppose she’s a little easier to approach than glittering, full-grown lions. For some folks anyway.” Santi shrugged in mild apology for all those colleagues that might not want to face down a lion to get to Thomas. “Very diplomatic of you.”

Thomas was amused.

“She’s extraordinary,” Santi said. “You’re very good with your hands, Scholar Schreiber.”

Santi smiled at him. _ He has a kind smile, _ Thomas thought.

Thomas shrugged, feeling a bit bashful. “It’s an easy enough set of calculations. And one can never have too many friends.”

“Friends are a gift. Your friend, the Archivist, sent me to see you, to be frank. With such an important task to be done, she worried you might still be in your workshop a bit late.”

Thomas tried not to be defensive, or dismissive. They all worried about him too much.

“It _ is _a very important task,” Thomas said. “Jess will need this equipment to function perfectly when he returns. We’ll have a great deal of work to do very quickly, and he needs a reliable binding machine.”

“That’s true,” the captain said gently. “He needs a well-rested, well-cared-for friend as well.”

“Well,” Thomas said, with an impulse to argue. But he didn’t have the heart. “Your assessment is an accurate one, I suppose,” he finally continued, suddenly feeling strange.

He looked to the captain, who looked back with a furrowed brow.

“Captain Santi,” Thomas said, feeling wobbly.

“Sit down with me, Thomas, right over here. That’s it.”

Santi had a hand on his back, and Thomas made it to the shabby couch against the wall. It creaked under him in protest, as it always did. But this couch was probably old and worn out long before Scholar Wolfe and the Lord Commander were born. It wasn’t getting any worse than it already was any time soon.

“Thomas, why don’t you eat something with me?” Santi asked. He began to open a paper bag that Thomas had just realized he had in his hand.

“Oh, I suppose it’s probably about time for supper,” Thomas said. “I was remiss, and forgot to stop for lunch.”

“Well, now that it’s midnight,” Santi said with a smile, “let’s break your fast.”

  
  


Thomas had eaten the first sandwich in three bites, and the second sandwich didn’t take much longer. But he was feeling sturdier now. Santi had nibbled on a smaller sandwich as Thomas ate -- possibly to be sociable, Thomas thought.

“What’s on your mind, Thomas?” Santi said, gathering the empty wrappers and collecting them in the bag.

Santi was right. Something weighed on Thomas.

“Captain Santi,” Thomas started.

“I’m off duty, Thomas, please call me Vittorio.” He leaned back on the couch then, his whole body carrying a lovely kind of ease.

“Vittorio,” Thomas answered. Thomas decided he liked Vittorio. He’d been sent by Khalila to look after him, but didn’t bear a trace of condescension about it, even when he had to fuss a bit. Thomas had been looked after by a fair few people by now, and he had done his own looking after others. Thomas had his opinions on how it should be done. He knew respect when he saw it.

“Vittorio, do you know what Jess is up to?”

Vittorio’s jaw tensed just slightly - a deferential sort of tightening - and nodded his head.

“I do. Not officially, but I was in the Archivist’s presence when certain decisions were made.”

Thomas nodded back and looked at his shoes.

“I know Philadelphia wasn’t easy on any of you,” Vittorio said, in a very calm voice. “I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s difficult for you to think about him being in that area without you.”

“It’s dangerous,” Thomas said. “I know he has competent High Garda with him. But it’s not his physical safety I worry about. I wish he had more friends nearby.”

When Thomas looked up, Vittorio had a warm smile again. “The two of you keep each other out of a lot of trouble, don’t you?”

Thomas nodded. “We both have holes in our heads, Jess would say. We keep each other from falling into them.”

“Is that what you’re worried about? Jess falling into one of his holes?”

The fear clutched at Thomas’s heart, and he nodded. He leaned back against the couch and wrapped his arms around himself, feeling an unexpected chill.

“Jess Brightwell strikes me as the kind of man who will keep himself sturdy - perhaps overly so - until the danger has passed,” Vittorio said. 

Thomas found himself nodding again, and smiled. “So I should keep myself sturdy until he gets back and needs a friend?”

Vittorio grinned. “I’m thoroughly transparent, it seems.”

“No, it’s Khalila’s fussing I can see right through,” Thomas chuckled. “But thank you. I’m glad for the company.”

Vittorio’s kindness was warming, and Thomas unclenched his arms.

“And Jess Brightwell,” Thomas mused, “is the kind of man who will keep himself sturdy until he falls over unconscious. And then he’ll get up, and sturdy himself up again.”

“A trait that runs in your collected family, I’m afraid,” Vittorio said.

“We may have received some training along those lines, too,” Thomas replied.

“Oh, I have no doubt my incorrigible brother influenced all of you after this fashion.”

“He was a good influence,” Thomas protested, realizing he couldn’t even tease about the men who’d brought them through so much. “Captain S- I mean, Lord Commander Santi. He was very good for us.”

“Oh yes, of course he was, in most ways I expect,” Vittorio said.

“I have a great deal of respect for the Lord Commander.”

“As well you should. If Niccolo never modeled peacetime skills like rest and moderation, I suspect it was your circumstances that should be blamed most of all.”

“Indeed,” Thomas said. “Well, maybe we could all use more practice at that these days.”

“There is less urgency in the air, certainly,” Vittorio mused. “Time presses much more softly against us.”

Thomas had an intense urge to put his head on Vittorio’s shoulder. There was a spot open where he could put it, and rest his weight partly on the couch and partly on him.

And so he did. He ducked his head down, curled over and settled there, feel Vittorio’s warmth close by. Thomas’ own boldness startled him. He couldn’t quite imagine why the thought had ever crossed his mind. But it had felt like just the thing to do.

Vittorio seemed to agree, because he bent his arm up and gently put his fingers in Thomas’ hair. Several soft strokes washed the tension from Thomas’ scalp. And then Vittorio moved his hand away, in order to rest his head on Thomas’. 

The affectionate character of their position poured over Thomas like sunlight.

Thomas felt their breathing subtly shift to match each other, as Vittorio’s hand came to rest on Thomas’ thigh. It was the sweetest, gentlest pressure, and Thomas had the urge to reach for it. He brought his large, ruddy hand down just above Vittorio’s slightly smaller brown one and used the tips of his fingers to stroke the lines of muscle and bone across the back.

Vittorio’s breathing caught, though Thomas wasn’t sure quite how at first. Was it a gasp? A chuckle? He lifted his head to look at the man’s face.

Vittorio smiled back. “Hands that have changed the world touching mine. It left me a little breathless for a moment.”

Thomas felt himself blush but didn’t have anything to say.

“Do they ever get tired?” Vittorio asked. He turned his hand over and made contact with Thomas’ hand. Soon Vittorio had his thumb pressed into Thomas’ palm in a way that felt very pleasant.

Thomas leaned away only enough to let Vittorio shift his position, and soon he had both hands on one of Thomas’ palms, rolling away aches Thomas didn’t realize were there until they eased.

Thomas felt a soft flutter in his stomach. He wondered what kissing Vittorio would be like. As he thought it, Vittorio leaned in almost imperceptibly.

_ He’s just leaning over his work, _ Thomas told himself. _ He’s probably not thinking about kissing me. He’s focused on the massage. _

Except that his lips were closer now. He focused on his work on Thomas’ hands in a way that brought his warm, stubbled cheek and his full lips closer to Thomas than they strictly needed to be. And Thomas was surprised to discover he much he wanted those lips against his. He was surprised and a bit hesitant.

But sometimes one had to work instinctually, Thomas knew that. Some decisions had to be made without all the information, so you listened to your materials and you trusted your gut and you leapt into action. Following his impulses had worked well so far tonight for Thomas. So he did it again. He tilted his chin, and nearly gasped as Vittorio’s lashes lifted to look at Thomas’ face. 

Together they pressed silky lips into a kiss that Thomas could feel in his hands and feet. He was warm and cold all at once, and he could feel his spine soften from the easy force of the kiss. With both hands he reached for Vittorio’s hands, to pull him closer, and then Thomas dared to open his mouth. As their tongues found each other, the sense that Thomas had silk against his bare skin, from head to toe, only increased. His shoulders dropped away from his ears, and the space his work had taken up inside of him opened up into fresh air.

Thomas wasn’t sure who moved next, but soon they both had hands on each other’s stomachs… and then trousers, and then they were unfastening each other’s trousers to reach inside.

Thomas pulled away from this kiss reluctantly, to catch his breath as he slid trembling fingers into Vittorio’s pants. He found his cock semi-hard and waiting for him. Thomas got only a hint of luscious softness before Vittorio responded to Thomas’ touch with growing girth. 

Thomas had never had his hand on someone else’s cock, and he let himself relish the sensations… the textures, the sameness, and the differences. His head settled into its clear focus again… only instead of diving toward some vision of a machine to create, his focus was Vittorio - a person with warm breath and a kind tongue and nerve endings he wanted to pleasure.

Thomas had stroked Vittorio several times before he realized Vittorio was stroking him too. Vittorio’s hand crept lower with each soft caress, until he was brushing a feather stroke across Thomas’ balls. It was so delicious, Thomas had to lean back in and kiss him again. He had to be closer to him, feel their breath mingle.

Vittorio pulled out of the kiss this time, to lick his own hand several times and replace it in Thomas’ trousers. Whatever he did sent a tingling thrill of pleasure through Thomas, from his ears to his toes.

Thomas lifted his own hand toward his mouth, but Vittorio intercepted it, drawing his pink tongue across it several times. When Thomas wrapped his wet fingers more firmly around Vittorio’s shaft, Vittorio gave a thrilling little grunt that sent Thomas further into a deep gladness.

Thomas shifted his fingers into a rolling pattern he rather liked on himself, hoping Vittorio would like it too.

Vittorio sighed soft as a feather. “You have such skilled hands, Thomas,” he said into his neck.

Soon the only sounds were the rise and fall of their heavy breaths and the soft susurrus of palms and fingers caressing skin.

Thomas felt his sense of time slip away and with every stroke they made he felt… unfettered. Free. He wished he could give this feeling to everyone he loved… and so he did. As if praying, he took the sense of clear, free easiness at his core and he wished it on every person he cared about. Every person he loved should feel this free.

He wished it for Jess, and he knew somehow that Jess would feel it, like a soothing breeze, and he’d feel he wasn’t alone. And he’d come back safe and whole.

He felt Vittorio pulse in his hand, and his breath hitched hard. As Vittorio grabbed gently at his neck with two fists, Thomas kept a strong stroke on his cock, and soon Vittorio was gasping and coming all over his stomach… cleverly made bare by his shirt being shifted out of the way at some point that Thomas didn’t notice.

Thomas didn’t mind the hand leaving his cock. He was close to coming, and hadn’t sorted how to come here without making a very large mess.

But Vittorio apparently had a plan. First his hand was back on Thomas’ cock. And then when Thomas was soon ready to burst, Vittorio leaned over and caught Thomas’ head in his mouth.

Thomas felt a rush of energy surge through the center of him, and he was lifted up so high, he saw stars.

When he came back down, Vittorio had swallowed the mess. He was refastening Thomas’ trousers and kissing his neck softly.

Thomas gave one last shudder all over. And then he smiled.

“You’re quite good with your hands, too, Captain Santi,” Thomas said. “I feel better schooled in techniques of relaxation.”

Vittorio threw his head back in a bright, generous laugh, and caught Thomas’ gaze.

“At your service any time, Master Scholar.”


End file.
